Free Pass Interference by Desiree Holt

herself.
    “I think I just overreacted, because…”
    He cocked an eyebrow. “Because what? Is something else going on here?”
    She looked hard at him then sighed. “You might as well come in. I mean, if you want to.”
    “I do.” He shoved his phone back in his pocket. “I’m coming. I just took some pictures of the tires. For your insurance company,” he added.
    She stood back to let him enter the town house. As he brushed past her, something delicate teased at his nostrils, the faint scent of wildflowers. Probably whatever soap or shampoo she used. He wondered fleetingly and foolishly what she looked like without any clothes on. Was her skin as creamy all over? Was it soft to the touch? His hormones that seemed to have a mind of their own where she was concerned stood up and did a jig, until he sent them a mental death ray. Maybe he should stick his balls in the freezer so his brain knew to chill out.
    “Thank you for coming over.” She spoke the words in a stilted, formal tone, jarring him back to the present. “I appreciate it.”
    “Of course.” What was he supposed to say? Kurt Gillette might not have the best relationship with his daughter, but Rafe owed him enough to answer a call for help from Tyler.
    “Would you like some coffee?” Still with the stiff voice. “I have a lot of different flavors.”
    “Sure. Thanks. That would be great. Just regular if you’ve got it.” Drinking coffee might take some of the discomfort out of the situation, although if he were smart he’d get the fuck out of there.
    He followed her into the kitchen, hitching himself up onto one of the stools at the serving counter while she busied herself filling mugs. He took a closer look at her in the light. Scrubbed free of makeup, her face had a clean, fresh look that surprised him. It was the same look he’d seen at Al Dente before she’d run to the restroom and slathered the goop on with a trowel. He liked this one a lot better. Her sun-streaked blond hair was pulled back in a careless ponytail, emphasizing skin that minus all the makeup was almost translucent.
    The damp ends of her ponytail were an indication she had showered not long before he got there. She wore a short-sleeved faded T-shirt and flannel pants, both worn-looking. Hardly the outfit he’d expect the princess to wear at home. He couldn’t help noticing the drape of the flannel pants against her hips and the curve of her ass before they flared over her legs. Without thought, his gaze was drawn to the way the soft material of the tee draped over her breasts. It was obvious she wore no bra, the way her hard nipples poked at the soft fabric. Were they rigid because of him? Did he do that to her? Was she reacting to his presence?
    Shit! Again!
    Think of ice cubes. Freezing weather. Dead fish. Anything to control the raging hard-on that popped up so suddenly it shocked him. This was Tyler, the woman trying to convince the world she was the sluttiest woman in the city. Maybe in the state, and Texas was a big state. The woman at the top of his Do Not Fuck list. He certainly didn’t need her to see his disobedient cock poke at her with the mother of all boners. He shifted position enough to keep the free-standing counter as a barrier between them.
    When she turned to hand him a filled mug, he was stunned at the look of vulnerability he saw on her face. Her clear gray eyes, framed by surprisingly dark lashes, held an unexpected sadness, as if life had disappointed her. Then it was gone, so suddenly he wondered if he’d just imagined it. Or hoped for it.
    “Let’s go into the living room and sit, okay?”
    What could he say? I have to hide my misbehaving dick? Instead, he pulled in every thread of self-control and followed her into the large room. She perched on the edge of the couch, so he took the armchair opposite, crossing his legs so one ankle rested on the opposite knee. Camouflage. Okay. That worked.
    “Do you have any idea when this happened?” he